


unfinished excerpts

by materva



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, bits of unfinished stories, sorry i just want to get these off my computer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24873646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/materva/pseuds/materva
Summary: Short wips that I will (most likely) never ever finish, but which I liked too much to just delete. Mostly Celica- or Mae/Celica-centric.
Relationships: Anthiese | Celica/Mae, Clea | Clair/Efi | Faye, Mathilda/Sonya (Fire Emblem)
Kudos: 4





	1. Faye/Clair - Go home with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the game ends, Clair goes to Ram Village with Faye to escape her brother's nagging and they both unlearn heteronormativity.

“I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to live on a farm,” Clair says apropos of nothing, sounding as if she’s continuing a conversation that hadn’t existed a moment ago.

“Is that so?” replies Faye without much interest. She would have startled at Clair appearing so suddenly beside her if she had about three less glasses of wine in her and wasn’t so focused on the center of the room, where Alm leads Celica clumsily around the dance floor. It’s clear that dancing wasn’t a skill that Mycen thought necessary for him to learn to defeat King Rudolph, but even his clumsiness has something regal about it. Celica, though, is a true image of what a queen should be: graceful as a desert cat, breathtakingly beautiful in the dusk, and with an expression as warm and expressive as a stone statue.

Faye, if she were in Celica’s place, would surely be swooning and lovestruck in Alm’s arms. She doesn’t want to be jealous of Celica, who had become as close to her as her other friends until she vanished one day, but she finds herself jealous anyways.

“It _is_ indeed so,” Clair says haughtily.

This time Faye does startle, having completely forgotten about Clair’s presence. She takes another sip of wine instead of replying, having no clue what they were supposed to be talking about. The waltz comes to an end, Alm bows low and kisses Celica’s hand with a brutally charming smile that Celica misses completely, being focused on something over Alm’s head. Faye tries to see what it is that Celica’s staring at, but then something - rather, someone - blocks her view of the dance floor.

“ _You_ live on a farm, do you not?” Clair asks loudly. It’s less of a question and more of a statement with the unsubtle connotations of _look at me, pay attention to me_.

Even after everything, Clair is ever the same.

“What are you doing?” Faye snaps.

“Talking to you,” Clair says blithely. “About your farm specifically. How big would you say it is? What do you grow on it? Carrots? Pigs? Bread? Just out of honest curiosity, I have no real interest in the matter, does your family often hire others for extra help?”

“Well,” Faye says, tipsy and unable to stop herself from bragging just a little, “it’s the biggest in the entire village, actually, even bigger than Sir Mycen’s. We’re the number one producers of Ram wine! I mean, we just grow the grapes that the wine is produced from, we don’t actually make it, but they’re the best grapes in all of Zofia.”

“I don’t doubt it!” exclaims Clair. “Ram wine is well known for being the finest wine one can have. Your farm must be quite large, to grow all those grapes, and I’m sure your family must be so hardworking. Do you often hire people to help you out?”

“We used to,” Faye says. “But with the war and everything, emp-employ- we don’t so much anymore.”

“Oh no,” Clair cries. She puts her hand to her head and swoons towards Faye, who catches her more out of reflex than anything. Her eyes, when they meet Faye’s, are black in the low light and unmistakably cunning. “How horrible! But with the war ended, and a new era of peace about to descend, surely your profits will improve, and then you will certainly need some extra help. Someone to polish the grapes, or take care of the horses, perhaps.”

“Perhaps...” Faye says, beginning to feel a little suspicious. She can’t quite remember if polishing grapes is something that her mother’s farm actually does, but honestly, why would anyone bother?

“Then that’s very good news indeed! A real cause to celebrate,” Clair says hurriedly. She tucks her arm around Faye’s waste and pulls her along the edges of the ballroom with the strength of a soldier. Faye resists a little, wanting to remain where she had been for unclear reasons, but Clair is very hard to refuse when she wants to be.

Clair takes the empty glass from Faye’s hands and waves a servant over to fill it again. “All the way to the top,” she tells him. “We’re celebrating her farm’s new hires tonight. Here, Faye, darling, drink up. It’s not as good as your Ram wine, but of course nothing can be.”

“If we’re both celebrating, shouldn’t you be drinking too?” Faye protests, but she still raises the glass to her lips and empties it in quick, practiced gulps.

“Let me give you a refill,” Clair replies. “And let’s speak some more about your farm, shall we?”

\-------

“You’re really coming with me? To Ram Village?” Faye asks, clutching at her forehead. Everything about this morning has seemed slightly surreal, but the only way she knows that this isn’t a dream is that, if it were, it would be Alm and Celica asking to come home with her instead, and also she would not be so painfully hungover.

“Indeed, I really am,” says Clair blithely. “Now, dear Faye, let’s mount my pegasus with no delays. We need to hurry if we don’t want my brother catching up with us.”

Faye automatically reaches for her hand and hoists herself up over the back of the pegasus, even as she asks, “What do you mean we don’t want your brother catching up? Didn’t you let him know you were going? Wait, why am I heading home now? I haven’t even packed or said goodbye to anyone yet!”

“The suspicion in your voice… What must you think of me!” Clair cries, completely ignoring most of Faye’s protests. “I’ll have you know that I did let Clive know. In a note. Which he is probably reading at this very moment, which is why speed is of the utmost importance.”

“But--!”

“We do not have time for questions! Full speed ahead!”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this then got distracted by the wiki page on grapes and then never returned whoops! also i swear to god that the title came from a crj song but i can't figure out which one.
> 
> i started writing this after i recruited clair in my first playthrough of echoes, so i don't quite remember the plot. it definitely had clair kidnapping faye to her own home and then forcing faye's family to hire her even though she's never worked on a farm before. faye's family loves her despite her abrupt and kinda unwanted presence, mostly for how she brings faye out of her shell and forces her to interact with the people around her. faye works through her alm-related issues and her family-related issues, clair works on her own clive-related issues, they both fall in love, etc. there is definitely celica/mae in the background but it probably wouldn't ever have made itself into the actual story, i just can't help myself
> 
> the theme song to this fic was definitely sangria wine by camila cabello


	2. Maelica - modern au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think this was supposed to be a marriage-proposal fic

It’s early afternoon and the usually frantic energy of the airport is sleepy and slow. Celica sticks a new stick of gum in her mouth and shoves the wrapper into her pocket. The taste of chili mango bursts fresh over her tongue.

She checks whatsapp again - but no new messages. More people walk through the doors - a group of Rigelian tourists speaking too fast for her to catch what they’re saying, a teenager who throws himself into his mom’s arms. Celica opens her email to read the flight info that Mae’d sent her, then she looks up to stare at the recent arrivals screen.

She’s at the right gate. Mae’s plane landed forty minutes ago. How long could it take to get through customs?

The gum’s gone bland already, but it was the last piece of the pack she had bought upon arriving at the airport. More people she doesn’t know exit the doors, talking loudly and calling to the people waiting to greet them. She double clicks back to whatsapp, wondering if it would be too clingy to text Mae again--

“Celica!”

Celica nearly pulls something in her neck with how fast she raises her head. Mae’s waving at her, grinning wildly when Celica meets her eyes.

Her heart skips a beat.

Mae carelessly tosses her duffle bag to the side and throws herself into Celica’s arms, nearly sending them falling to the ground. She hooks her chin over Celica’s shoulder and presses her cold nose into her neck. Her arms try their hardest to squeeze the breath out of Celica’s lungs.

Celica sighs and wraps her arms around Mae’s waist, one hand coming up to rest between her shoulder blades. She rests her cheek against the side of Mae’s head and breathes in the airplane-smell of her hair. The itchy, tense, too-tight feeling of her skin fades away, forgotten. Her jaw unclenches, her forehead smoothes out.

“I know it was only a few days, but I missed you so much,” Mae says, laughing into the collar of Celica’s shirt. She presses a quick kiss to Celica’s lips, then pulls away to sling her duffle bag over her shoulder. Celica bites back a protest - if they stood there hugging until she was ready to let go, they’d be there all day. “I wish you could’ve come with me. I think you would’ve liked it there.”

“I don’t. It sounds way too cold.” She contents herself with grabbing Mae’s free swinging hand, their fingers fitting perfectly together.

Mae rolls her eyes with fake exasperation. “I  _ told _ you, it wasn’t that cold. I barely needed a jacket the entire time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my google docs this was literally just titled "sappy" and I'm not sure if it ever actually had a plot. I think there was something about Celica being scared of how much she loves Mae but figuring out that Mae loves her back equally as much? Or possibly, this was a romcom fic about Celica trying to propose and messing up several times, or something
> 
> Or, more likely, I never had any plot to begin with and I just wrote this because I was feeling gay and lonely and that's why I never even finished the first scene lol


	3. Maelica - fake marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celica and Mae pretend to be married and everyone gives Mae a hard time.

“It’s because I’m already married to Mae,” Celica says. 

Mae is standing right next to her when she says this, so she knows she didn’t mishear, but maybe she did because there’s suddenly this high-pitched buzzing sound like some bug is flying loops around her ears.

Celica’s always been like this, thoughtful and clearheaded up until the moment she’s pushed into a corner, and then she becomes rash as she tries to escape. It’s like when she sacrificed herself to Jedah, except this time Mae thinks  _ she’s  _ the one who’s going to die. Mae knows that Celica doesn’t want to marry that guy Alm, knows that she doesn’t even particularly get along with him now for all her talk of childhood friendship, and she has watched Celica get more and more desperate as she tries and fails to shut down talk of their potential marriage. But she’d thought Celica would just end up killing someone or running off to Novis or something; murder is something she can deal with, marriage is not.

Now that she’s made her - very bad! Very, very bad! - plan of escape, Celica’s calmed down again. Her body language relaxes, her expression smooths out, and she even looks rather pleased with herself. Mae loves her, would literally have challenged Duma to a one-on-one fistfight for her, but that doesn’t mean she can’t admit that sometimes Celica is the literal, absolute worst.

“You are already married?” asks the nobleman, the one who has been one of the pushiest about the marriage since Celica and Alm settled on their sort-of co-ruler decision. “Do you jest? I mean, your majesty, surely you understand that marriage is the best way to unify our two countries. It is for the greater good of everyone-”

“You surprise me, Sir Clive,” Celica says. She’s smiling that tiny smile she gets when she’s got the upper hand in a spar and yet she’s still going to pull an underhanded trick that knocks you on your ass and makes you eat dirt. It’s victorious, smug, and unfairly attractive, but currently Mae is too busy trying not to combust to be affected enough to swoon. “I did not think you were someone who would advocate for divorce, but perhaps I have misjudged you. Do you really think it would be good for our fragile, fledgling country if their new queen divorced the woman she loves to marry someone to make a political alliance?”

Sir Clive, along with half the room, gapes at her.

“No ruler of either Rigel or Zofia has ever divorced before, if I remember my history correctly,” Celica muses. “And of course my divorce with Mae would be messy and emotional, since we are very much in love. I would be so despondent if I was forced to marry Lord Alm, I’m not sure if I would be able to rule effectively. But of course, if the council thinks that it is in the best interest of everyone, I defer to your better judgement.”

“N-no,” Sir Clive stammers. “I mean, I would not ask you to do anything so drastic as divorce. If you really- I mean, if Mae really is-”

“I hope that you are not calling my sister a liar” Conrad says, narrowing his eyes. “And I must say, that is a rather intimate way of addressing my sister-in-law, the queen-consort. I must ask that you pay Lady Mae the respect that she is due.”

“No, of course,” Sir Clive corrects. His face looks a little like the way Mae’s brain feels. “Lady Mae is your wife, and I would never ask you to divorce her. I apologize for my misstep.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Celica says serenely. “Now that everything is cleared up, let us move this council onto the next topic we have to discuss.”

\---

Boey does not stop laughing, because he is a  _ total fucking asshole _ . “Lady Mae,” he says. “Consort Mae. Princess Mae.  _ Queen _ Mae,” and then he collapses against the wall when Mae shoves the pointiest part of her elbow into his gut.

“I think it’s a clever idea,” Celica says. “Alm told me he didn’t want to get married either, but we couldn’t figure out a way to avoid it, and then it just came to me. Did you see their faces? I don’t think they’ll ever bring the topic up again.”

“It’s definitely not a clever idea!” Mae says. “In fact, it’s not even a sort-of okay idea. It’s terrible! The absolute worst! It’s really, really bad!”

“I can’t believe you and Celica didn’t invite me to your wedding,” Genny tells her. “Can you have another one?”

“Should you really be talking to your beloved wife like that?” Saber asks. “Is the honeymoon period over already? Are we intruding on a lover’s tiff?”

Boey wheezes, still propped against the wall.

“Are you regretting marrying me already?” Celica asks. She’s trying to pout, but it’s ruined by the fact she can’t entirely stifle her giggles. “Are you throwing me away so soon?”

“That’s really mean, Mae,” Genny says.

“As Anthiese’s older brother, I completely disapprove of the way you are treating her,” says Conrad. It seems the terrible sense of humor is a family trait, or maybe Mae is just cursed. “When I gave you my sister’s hand in marriage, it was with the expectation you would treasure her forever.”

“You need to take responsibility for your actions,” Saber adds.

“Queen Mae!” Boey repeats.

“I have every single one of you!” Mae says. “Stop laughing! This isn’t funny!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think that the plot for this one is pretty obvious


	4. Mathilda/Sonya - spy au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathilda and Sonya are spies, that's it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a pov switch here, bc I started writing from Sonya’s pov and then realized that most of the story worked better from Mathilda’s pov. I also changed the events of the beginning slightly, so that’s why the two povs don’t mesh that well

**Sonya:**

“I just broke up with my fiance,” says Special Agent Mathilda Glass, codename Valkyrie, who had introduced herself as such when she had stumbled out the backdoor of CITADEL, right before she’d vomited all over Sonya’s shoes. “That’s why I’m drinking so much tonight, so that I can drown my sorrows.” 

“Isn’t it usually the person being broken up with who goes out drinking?” Sonya observes. “Are you regretting it?”

“You misunderstand,” Mathilda tells her. She looks two inches to Sonya’s left with eyes that are way too sober for someone who smells like they’ve been bathing in vodka for the past couple hours.

“Then explain it to me,” Sonya says. Normally, she’d never humor any stranger like this, especially a drunk one, but the words come out of her mouth before she can even think to stop them.

“One day I was talking to him, and I thought to myself, if I marry this man I will be absolutely miserable. All this time before I thought I was happy, but it was really other people telling me I was. You can understand, right?”

Sonya can understand a little too well for her own liking. “Why are you drowning your sorrows, then, if you’re happier?”

“Thirty entire years!” Mathilda says. She reaches out, clutching Sonya’s hands and shaking them slightly. “That’s three entire decades! All this time I’ve thought I was straight, but now I’m finally free.”

“Oh, congratulations,” says Sonya, unable to prevent herself from smiling. “I’m so happy for you.”

“You’re just so  _ nice _ ,” Mathilda says mournfully. “I am  _ so _ sorry about this.” And then she throws up again, this time all over Sonya’s chest.

* * *

**Mathilda:**

“I’m a--”  _ field agent, _ Mathilda begins to say, but stops when she realizes that that doesn’t sound very interesting at all. The bouncer watches her with dark eyes and a self-possessed smile, looking incredibly attractive in a way that Mathilda only allows herself to notice when she’s too drunk to care. Right now she is both too drunk and too exhausted, and she’s being tortured by the tight fit of the bouncer’s short sleeves around her bicep so she can’t be blamed for her actions.

“I am a  seductress ,” she declares, stupidly, and then she passes out.

\---

“ _ That’s _ your ex-fiance?” Sonya asks, disbelieving.

“Clive is my ex-fiance, yes,” Mathilda says. She’s not sure whether she should feel defensive, but Sonya doesn’t look like she’s making fun.

“Oh,  _ darling _ ,” Sonya says, tongue curling around the endearment in a way that makes Mathilda’s ears burn. “You really don’t know what you’re worth, do you. That man is so below your level that he’s not even worth the dirt on your shoes.”

That is… Mathilda’s brain fogs up again, but she’s used to it in Sonya’s presence, even comes to enjoy it, the giddy pleasure she takes in the company of a gorgeous woman. She lets herself smile but keeps it coy and sly, tilting her head and meeting Sonya’s gaze with hooded eyes.

“Oh? I don’t know what I’m worth?” she says, making sure to take her time pronouncing each word. Sonya’s breath hitches, so subtle, and she sways just the tiniest bit closer. “I think I know exactly what I’m worth.”

“That expression looks so dumb on you,” Sonya lies, voice low and crackly. Mathilda licks her lips and Sonya’s eyes follow the movement, as if a moth drawn to a flame. “What is it you think you’re worth?”

Slowly, but with a surety in her actions that she usually only achieves in a fight, Mathilda steps closer and fits her hand over the curve of Sonya’s hipbone. This close she can see the hint of the blush that Sonya’s darker skin normally doesn’t allow to show. Sonya shivers, and then lifts a hand to cup the back of Mathilda’s head, never once breaking her gaze away.

“I think,” Mathilda says, “that I am worth the woman who works as a bouncer at The Citadel. That’s a real up-and-coming nightclub, very trendy, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it.”

“I’ve heard of it,” Sonya says. “A bouncer, though? That’s not aiming very high. I think you could do better.”

“Better? I think bouncers are pretty hot,” Mathilda teases. “But if you want better, then how about the most gorgeous woman in the world, who is so caring and compassionate that she gave up all the money and power of her family name because she knew it was the right thing to do? I’m definitely worth someone like that.”

“That’s an awfully high opinion of yourself you have there.” Sonya’s voice is barely more than a whisper. Mathilda can feel her hot breath on her lips, the tip of her nose against her cheek. “You’re really lucky that I like my women with a little bit of ego.”

“ _ I’m _ the one with ego?” Mathilda wants to say, but Sonya, as always, never lets her have the final word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this is the only thing i've written with both a first scene and a last scene haha
> 
> in this story, mathilda is one of the best spies of her organization and she used to be engaged to clive, who’s the head of the organization or something, his job isn’t important, but she breaks up with him right before the story starts. Sonya used to work for grieth, who’s some mob boss that mathilda’s org is trying to bring down whose base is the bar CITADEL and sometimes sonya pretends to be a bouncer for [reasons]
> 
> sonya decides to switch sides bc of some sketchy stuff grieth was doing, and she meets with mathilda’s organization the morning after her and mathilda meet. Mathilda, who remembers lying to sonya about being a “seductress”, decides that she needs to keep pretending to be one in order to impress sonya, but she sucks at it because she doesn’t have the patience or interest in that type of work. Her and sonya work to take down grieth and they fall in love. I think that there was something to do with sonya’s backstory (with jedah) also. 
> 
> i think i started writing this bc i got so sick of the "woman in spy group is a femme fatale" trope and also that whole "dangerous femininity" things where women slit people's throats with their high heels and its empowering or something lol. sonya's obviously a femme lesbian but like, she still wears sensible shoes. mathilda lying about being a "seductress" is the whole joke and set up of this fic


End file.
